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SUBCREATION
- WRITING MIDDLE-EARTH
STAGES OF IMAGINATION
When asked by an interviewer24 whether his Middle-earth was ”in a sense
… the world we live in, but at a different era?”, Tolkien, puffing at his
pipe, replied simply ”No… at a different stage of imagination, yes.”
The interviewer moved on, rapidly, but it is in fact a statement worth dwelling
on. This is more than a mere word-game, for the distinction hinted at here
is not superficial, it is very much at the heart of Tolkien’s work.
The question is natural, of course. Any reader will perceive
the setting of LotR and Sil as anything but contemporary
- and yet, there is more to a story than setting and language. The Shire
has nearly all the characteristics of rural English, pre-industrialised society
and its inhabitants are in some ways just as unprepared for the untold perils
and unexpected marvels of the outside world as, say, a contemporary reader
would be.
Bilbo Baggins, for example, was rather a respectable hobbit
before Gandalf appeared on his doorstep in The Hobbit (1937). By ’respectable’,
hobbits generally infer sound, homely virtues, caution in all things, an
unadventurous disposition, a fondness for peace and quiet, yet also for food,
drink and celebrations – a homogenous citizen. Yet Bilbo’s association
with the old wizard and the dwarves literally dragged him out of the secluded
comfort of the Shire into a strange, heroic age of adventure and danger.
A similar turn of events features early on in LotR with Frodo and his friends
Sam, Merry and Pippin. While the portrayal of the uneventful Shire and its
rural people could readily be applied to (but not conflated with) pre-industrial
Edwardian England, most of the conceptual landscape of Middle-earth is suffused
with ancient Northern epics and sagas. The comfortable Shire appears to be
in sharp contrast to the rest of the untamed world; both the darkness and
peril and the grandeur and nobility of the outside world stand completely
apart from anything the hobbits have ever experienced. Indeed, the exploration
of the unknown with its air of mystique, its many secret and forgotten places,
its strange beings, some foul, some noble, accounts for at least part of
the basic appeal of the fantasy genre and the far more ancient traditions
of romance and epic. For Bilbo, and of course for the hobbits in LotR,
the journey is not solely geographical. The basic drive of the narrative
is physical and spiritual movement; a journey through the landscapes of Middle-earth,
its wonders and its perils, but equally through the souls of the characters.
This dynamic motif made it possible for Tolkien to draw on the vastness of
his (already invented) Secondary World and integrate different locations
and people into the basic plot. Passing through the realms of Middle-earth,
both Frodo and the reader are faced with occasional glimpses of the larger,
mythic dimension which adds depth to the tale: through the travels of the
Quest both are brought into contact with the marvellous. A hobbit is not
your typial hero – quite the contrary – and naturally, he is completely out
of place in this setting. Elves, trolls, dragons are all beings of an altogether
different stature than the hobbit protagonists in both The Hobbit
and LotR.
The generic mediation between realities (Primary and Secondary)
was discussed earlier. Now, the more specialised use of the term mediation
needs to be introduced. Structuralist thought employs the concept of the
"mediator" as a key tool for analysis in myth studies25. Myths operate within a universe of contrasts
which are central to the story - loyalty/betrayal, male/female, death/life,
order/chaos, civilised/wild - just to mention a few contrastive pairs. These
conflicts and narrative tension generated by them are central to the genre.
Alone, however, these elements cannot drive the narrative forward toward
the resolution, or morale, or ultimate realisation which is part of its raison
d'être. Thus, this whole pattern of storytelling implies
a third party, namely the mediator which functions as the unifying factor.
This is the character whose actions reflect and accentuate the contrastive
pairs of the story, who bridges the gap and sets greater forces in motion.
In LotR, hobbits, as a race and as a concept, function
as mediators between the high mimesis of the epic and heroic world in which
they move and the simple, rural, low mimetic image of the Shire. On the larger
scale, hobbits are an image of "the ordinary" which Tolkien needed in order
to ground his mythology in contemporary imagination. An important scene is
at the banquet of Rivendell, where Frodo finds himself in the centre of elvendom:
"Frodo looked at them in wonder, for he had never before seen Elrond of whom
so many tales spoke; and as they sat upon his right hand and his left, Glorfindel,
and even Gandalf, whom he thought he knew so well, were revealed as lords
of dignity and power."26
This is the full splendour of the ancient world. The shadow of outside war
has no power in this sanctuary and the elvish characters represent the embodiment
of a mythical past far beyond Frodo's (and the readers') experience. The
following descriptions will elucidate Tolkien's image of the elves (which
has nothing to do with the minuscule creatures of popular tradition):
The face of Elrond was ageless, neither old nor young, though
in it
was written the memory of many things both glad and sorrowful …
Venerable he seemed as a king crowned with many winters, and yet
hale as a tried warrior in the fullness of his strength. He was the
Lord
of Rivendell and mighty among both elves and Men. … In the
middle of the table … there was a chair under a canopy, and
there sat a lady fair to look upon… Young she was and yet not so.
…
So it was that Frodo saw her whom few mortals had yet seen; Arwen,
daughter of Elrond, in whom it was said that the likeness of Lúthien
had come on earth again … Such loveliness in living thing Frodo had
never seen before nor imagined in his mind; and he was both surprised
and abashed to find that he had a seat at Elrond's table among all
these
folk so high and fair.
Frodo looked in wonder - and saw what few mortals have
seen. In every respect he displays the feelings we, as readers and inhabitants
of the Primary World, must naturally feel when confronted with the stuff
of legends. Middle-earth is a vast subcreation and that in itself stirs the
readers' capacity for wonder; but this introduces yet another layer, a flicker
of living legend revealed to Frodo, and, through his mediating function,
to the reader.
Tolkien combined the sublime with the mundane and the
profound with the light-hearted in unusual ways. The hobbits provide the
latter. Early in the story, the idyllic and not-so-distant rural community
of the Shire serves as a setting to be contrasted with the gradual passing
into the ancient, the perilous, the epic and heroic - all of which are pervasive
moods in the trilogy. Later in the story, the hobbit characters fulfil a
narrative (and indeed human) need of occasional light-hearted relief and
variation on themes of mythic grandeur or overwhelming darkness. For example,
the scene describing Merry and Pippin resting and conversing after the ents'
dramatic attack on Isengard provides a moment of lightness, of solace - the
fruits of their far from ultimate victory being "pipeweed" (treasured by
any hobbit) and momentary relief from danger. When King Théoden and
his royal entourage arrive with Gandalf, the hobbits act as a formal welcoming
committee:
For a moment Théoden and Éomer and all his
men stared at them in
wonder. Amid the wreck of Isengard, this seemed the strangest sight.
But before the king could speak, the small smoke-breathing figure
became suddenly aware of them, as they sat there silent on the edge
of the mist. … He bowed very low, putting his hand upon his breast.
Then, seeming not to observe the wizard and his friends, he turned
to Éomer and the king. 'Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!', he
said.
'We are the doorwardens. Meriadoc, son of Saradoc is my name;
and my companion, who, alas! Is overcome with weariness' - here
he gave the other a dig with his foot - 'is Peregrin, son of Paladin,
of the house of Took. … The Lord Saruman is within; but at the
moment he is closeted with one Wormtongue, or doubtless he
would be here to welcome such honourable guests. 27
Merry here functions as a mediator between races and stylistic
levels. Yet, while showing refreshing frankness, his diction is no longer
typical of the Shire hobbits. Rather, the young hobbit greets the high-mimetic
characters in their own style. The significance of language and its slightest
nuances, can hardly be overemphasised in Tolkien's works. The rural, uneventful
Shire is clearly of a different linguistic tradition than the ancient kingdoms
of Men and the elevated, (seemingly) timeless strongholds of the Elves. Therefore,
this scene (and several other examples) is evidence of the gradual change
of the hobbits – indeed growth is a more appropriate word, for in the case
of Merry and Pippin, their contact with the ents and the nurturing effects
of the "ent draughts" spark an increase in physical stature, symbolic of
the moral and mental growth of the halflings. Starting from unheroic beginnings,
they all experience an enhancement of sorts, "acquire merit" as Tolkien's
1971 interviewer remarked28
, and rise to positions of leadership and power by the end of the Quest.
Meriadoc becomes "Master of Buckland", Peregrin becomes "Thain" of the Shire
under King Elessar, and for seven consecutive periods Sam is elected "Mayor
of Hobbiton". All save Frodo - who does indeed grow (his will is honed by
its constant battle with the Ring, as is his insight into the nature of good
and evil) but in another direction than his companions. His spiritual change
is expressed through the pity and mercy which he acquires. It is a development
made clear in the interaction with Gollum and finally in the pacifist role
Frodo plays in the Shire after the Quest. Where the other hobbits achieve
some greatness yet in Middle-earth, Frodo somehow passes out of earthly affairs
altogether. "'It must often be so, Sam,'" he muses at the end, "'when things
are in danger: some one has to give them up, lose them, so that others may
keep them'"29. The displacement,
social, psychological and metaphysical, which any bearer of the One Ring
must endure, has left a permanent mark.
This explication of mythic mediation reveals the multi-layered
texture of Tolkien’s Secondary World. Middle-earth contains many examples
of mediation, and hobbits are but one. They are central, however, because
first Bilbo, and later Frodo on a much grander scale, perform a quintessential
mythic and narrative function. To readers, they represent our points of identification.
They effectively bridge the gap between the vastness of Tolkien's otherworldly
mythos on the one hand and the reading public of his own century on the other.
With their mundane, earthy nature, the hobbits and their Shire have a distinctly
familiar feel which becomes the modern readers' stable point of entry before
the author unfolds the "different stage of imagination".
And thus, the concept of mediation also adds perspective
to our initial quote, namely the somewhat puzzling answer Tolkien gave his
interviewer. What he was in fact referring to was a quality quite central
to Middle-earth both in conception and in depiction. Narrative techniques
such as these render conventional time difference an inadequate concept with
which to place Tolkien's Secondary World. In conclusion, Tolkien's tales
operate not at a strictly historic stage, but also at a mythic
stage of imagination, and time cannot account for timelessness. Perhaps the
best and final description is found in Tolkien's own words, as he deals with
this question in a letter from 1954 to Father Robert Murray:
But they [the characters of LotR] were still living
on the borders of myth
– or rather this story exhibits myth passing into History or the Dominion
of Men; for of course the Shadow will rise again … but never again
…
will an evil daemon be incarnate as a physical enemy; he will direct
Men
and all the complications of half-evils and defective-goods, and the
twilights of doubt as to sides, such situations as he most loves (you
can see
them already arising in the War of the Ring, which is by no means
so clear
cut an issue as some critics have averred): those will be and are
our more
difficult fate. 30
The closing chapters31
of LotR poignantly express the great, irrevocable transition of the
world – from one “stage of imagination” to another. From the heroic age of
the Elder Days to the "Age of the Dominion of Man". Arwen Evenstar, whose
radiant beauty evoked the memory of Lúthien Tinúviel, who was
a walking symbol of the glory of the Elder Days, ultimately shines alone
– a beacon to posterity. As the last of the Elves, Arwen represents the final
whisper of Fëanor’s proud exodus, of Fingolfin’s fierce sacrifice, of
Eärendil’s long voyage and of Master Elrond’s legendary power and wisdom.
It has been argued (for example by W.A Senior) that, among
the wide range of styles, moods and motifs found in Tolkien's fiction, the
most pervading, and one that appears to subsume all others, is ultimately
a deep sense of loss. As the narrative of LotR progresses (and even
more clearly that of the Sil) we witness the inevitability of decline.
The more we learn of the history of Tolkien's Secondary World, the more we
come to realise the gradual lessening of power and beauty in Middle-earth.
Despite its seemingly timeless qualities, Middle-earth is a world in constant
change. I find this particular fact quite essential to the understanding
of all Tolkien's major works and the philosophy behind them. This quality
of unrelenting "movement", of passing and renewal, in a world so often associated
with the timelessness of myth and legend, also remains one of its strongest
claims for Secondary Belief. For many readers and critics alike, the serene
beauty of Rivendell, the power and grandeur of Minas Tirith and the
otherworldly mystique of Lothlórien have overshadowed this sombre
realisation of the trilogy's autumnal atmosphere. Nevertheless this atmosphere
is at the heart of Tolkien's sub-creation, and it is symptomatic of some
of the higher themes he aspired to: mortality vs. immortality: the human
condition. As a curious appendix, it may be noted that Tolkien the man thought
of the elves in ways that are not apparent in his fiction. In one of his
letters, he reflects critically that Elves have indeed fallen behind time,
they are "embalmers" trying to preserve a lost world - the world of their
greatness and splendour. A world in which they were powerful and numerous
and superior to mortal races. As Tolkien puts it, they are trying to have
their cake and eat it too. In the Third Age, all their efforts are centred
around this notion and not until their passing can the world move from the
stage of myth into the stage of history.
24Tolkien's last radio interview was broadcast
by the BBC Radio 4 in 1971 and can be read or heard at www.newsfrombree.co.uk
back
25This term is used according to Jørgen
Podemann Sørensen's definition in his lecture "Mytisk mediator – og
hvad så?" which was given at KU March 14 as part of a seminar on mythology.
The origin of mediation theory in myth studies can be traced to Claude Levi-Strauss'
work, for example "The Structural Study of Myth" , in Thomas A. Sebeok (ed.)
Myth: A Symposium, Bloomington, Ind., 1958). Structuralism tends to
focus on the framework, the typical traits, the general, recurring aspects
of myth, in short, the constituents which may reveal how the human mind understands
and structures the world. The mediator emerges as a necessary product of
Levi-Strauss' discovery of conflict (the so-called binary oppositions) as
the basic building blocks of all myth. back
26Both this and the following quote are
from LotR, p. 243-44-45 back
27LotR, p. 580 back
28"Frodo accepts the burden of the Ring
and he embodies as a character the virtues of long suffering and perseverance
and by his actions one might almost say in the Buddhist sense he 'aquires
merit'." Ref. : www.newsfrombree.co.uk
back
29Tolkien, LotR, p. 1067 back
30Tolkien, Letters, p. 207 back
31And the Appendix relating Aragorn's
demise and Arwen's mortal fate: "There at last when the mallorn-leaves were
falling, but spring had not yet come, she laid herself to rest upon
Cerin Amroth; and there is her green grave until the world is changed, herself
to rest upon Cerin Amroth; and there is her green grave until the world is
changed, and all the days of her life are utterly forgotten by men that come
after, and elanor and niphredil bloom no more east of the Sea.", in Tolkien,
LotR, p. 1100 back
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